


Harry Potter and the Family He Never Thought He’d Have

by TheGriefPolice



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Draco Malfoy is a Good Bro, Evil Albus Dumbledore, FTM, Fluff and Angst, Good Malfoy’s, Happy Ending, Harry Potter is a Malfoy, Misgendering, Mocking, Oops, Trans!Harry, Twin Fic, abusive Dursley’s, harry and draco are twins, mentions of abuse, this was supposed to be a one-shot, transftm, understanding family, unintentional misgendering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23053462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGriefPolice/pseuds/TheGriefPolice
Summary: Harry had settled in just fine at Hogwarts, finally getting to be himself. The lessons were hard but Harry could hardly care if it got him away from the Dursley’s. He was Happy for the first time in his life.All of that is ripped away from under him when one of Draco’s pranks reveals Harry’s darkest secret and, in turn, a conspiracy against the Malfoy family.~or~Harry is trans ftm and is actually a Malfoy. Because why not.
Relationships: Harry Potter & Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter & Lucius Malfoy, Harry Potter & Narssisa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 301





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is almost completely finished, so I’ll be posting regularly until the story is through. There are a lot of moving parts, so please let me know if there are any inconsistencies!

Harry sat on the softest bed he’d ever been on in his life, twiddling his fingers in his hands as he listened to several people talking on the other side of the massive room full of beds that made the medical wing of Hogwarts. He had a stone in the pit of his stomach and another in his throat, both of with made Harry feel like he was about to throw up. None of this was making any sense and he wasn’t even allowed to listen as the adults talked about his future at Hogwarts.

Receiving that letter (or more, having Hagrid deliver it) was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Finally, his life was starting to make sense! He had magic, and that’s why weird things were happening around him and he was going to go to a school to teach him all about it! Who wouldn’t feel excited!

And then Hagrid had taken him on the most magical eventuate he’d ever had, where he got to pick out brand new shoes (his first ever, as all of his previous shoes had been hand-me-downs), a cloak, a broom! He even had a pet—a sweet white owl that seemed to almost purr when she was pet. It was all going so well, right up until he got to the book store. Whilst running around to look t the old, leather bound books, a man with hair so blond it almost looked white stepped in front of him and knelt down. Harry couldn’t help stating into the gray eyes of this man, a sense of familiarity rolling over him. He’d was certain he’d never seen this man before—Harry would have remembered someone like this—but it still felt like he had.

The man seemed to study Harry for a moment before he stood up and asked (more demanded), “What is your name?”

Harry had to stop and think for a moment. What would this man do with his name? Why did he are? And, most worrisome of all, what would he do if Harry lied.

Hogwarts was supposed to be a new start, somewhere fresh for him to grow. His name was Harry James Potter, and that’s how this world would know him.

“Harry Potter, sir.” Harry replied, trying to keep his voice at a lower octave than normal to not rise any suspicion. 

The man’s eye brows furrowed. “How old are you?”

“Eleven.”

The man’s eyes seemed to narrow as he looked Harry over once more. “Potter, did you say?”

Harry nodded, suddenly too anxious to speak.

The man pursed his lips, said a quick thank you, then left with no other explanation.

Harry had no idea what the interaction was about, but decided to find Hagrid and make sure that man didn’t come back.

School had started and Harry fell right in, making a few friends—and a few enemies—and drowning himself in the world of magic that he’d been deprived of for his whole life. He kept his head down, insuring he was never called on in class or singled out in any way. Attendance was done magically, so he never had to answer to any name other than his own. It was working. It was perfect. 

Until it wasn’t.

Of course Malfoy had to steal Nevil’s ball thing, and Harry wasn’t about to let him get away with it. So, he hoped on his broom and chanced the blonde boy around the courtyard until Malfoy finally threw it. Harry caught it by the skin of his teeth, almost slamming into the side of the building. He flew back down, only noticing Madam Hooch and her very angry face as his feet hit the dirt of the courtyard.

“Harper Potter, what are you doing!” She yelled, walking over and grabbing Harry’s ear. “I said to not touch your boom when I left and you blatantly disregard my instructions! Your head of house will hear of this!”

Harry flinched for three reasons as Madam Hooch pulled him back into the castle after dismissing all of the brooms back to their shed and dismissing class: 

1\. The firm grip Madam Hooch had on his ear as she pulled him along.  
2\. Hearing that name for the first time in over two months.  
3\. The punishment that would arise because of this. Not for flying the broom, no, Harry knew the detention hall at all of his previous schools rather well and had learned to cope with the beatings he revived at the hand of his uncle to not worry too much. No, he was worried about the punishment that would come from disregarding his legal name, refusing to let anyone know he’d been placed with the girls but quickly found an empty bed in the boy’s tower with Ron next to it. He’d asked a student in the girls tower to retrieve his things that “must have been misplaced” to keep up appearances. Boys were barred from entering the girl’s tower by strong wards, and it would gather many questions if he trotted up wistfully.

Harry kept his eyes on the floor as he was dragged away from his classmates, trying to keep up with Madam Hooch’s steps as best he could but still managing to stager every few steps. Finally, he was told to stand in and office and not to leave until he spoke with his head of house.

Harry felt his chest tighten as he looked around the room, finding only a lit fireplace and a cat on the desk that watched him with narrow eyes.

Suddenly, the cat grew to form a human in dark robes. Harry gasped and backed into the wall as Professor McGonagall looked him over with a serious look that seemed a mix of anger and concern. 

“Miss Potter, do you wish to explain what happened?” She asked.

Harry flinched at the formal name but shook his head. What did it matter if he explained that he was just trying to help and it was Malfoy’s fault? He would still end up being the one blamed and in trouble.

The Professor nodded with lips in a thin line. “Then you and Mr Malfoy will be enjoying a detention together tonight.”

Harry looked up in shock. “Malfoy’s getting detention?”

“As he was involved and, in fact, instigated the situation, he will be punished just as you will.” 

Harry almost couldn’t believe his ears. He wasn’t the only one getting blamed! 

All of that positive energy was soon squashed as he stood next to Malfoy in Hagrid’s hut holding a bucket of foul smelling muck. Malfoy, holding a similar bucket, tried his best to get out of feeding whatever animal Hagrid had befriended in the forest. 

Harry, although not enjoying the smell, wasn’t bothered by the task. Cleaning the bathroom after Dudley on taco night made this almost nothing. 

They followed Hagrid out the door and into the dark forest, Malfoy turning his nose at everything and complaining about it at every step. Hagrid was trying to tell the story about this creature but Harry couldn’t hear a blip thanks to Malfoy. Hagrid has asked for both buckets, telling Harry and Malfoy to stay whilst he went off to feed whatever the animal was. Malfoy continued with what Harry finally defined as “bitching” until Harry couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Do you ever shut up!!!” Harry yelled, glaring daggers at Malfoy. “All you have done for the past hour is shove your nose in the air like you’re too good for anything! In fact, that’s all you’ve been doing this whole year!!!”

“Oh, that’s rich, Potter! You coming after me for something when you’ve been pretending to be a boy all semester!” Malfoy shouted back. “All for attention, right! Make every one think you’re a boy and then prounce around in a dress so all eyes will be on you!”

Harry felt his eyes getting hot as he yelled, “all eyes on me! I don’t want anyone looking at me! You don’t know anything about me! And I am a boy!”

Draco scoffed. “If you’re a boy, then prove it!”

Harry had tears pouring from his eyes as the tightness in his chest cut off his breath. Harry tried to not let Malfoy see how hurt he was. How much he hated that he couldn’t prove it. But he felt it in his whole body that he was, and if his uncle’s beatings couldn’t take it out of him than Malfoy definatly didn’t stand a chance. 

Harry decided to show he was in the only way he ever possibly could—by lifting his fist and hitting Draco square across the face. At least, that’s what he tried to do. He was stopped by a sudden shove backwards that made him fall on his butt painfully.

“You can’t hit me Potter! You’re too weak to even stand a—“

Draco’s words were cut short as he stared at Harry in confusion, and then fear. He took several steps backwards with terror covering his face and looking over Harry’s head.

“What the bloody hell is that!!!”

Harry jumped up, not even bothering to dust off his robes as he looked off into the woods where a dark form walked across the forest floor. Only, it wasn’t walking. It was almost floating, body never seeming to touch anything as it faded out of view.


	2. Trouble Follows Trouble

Harry and Malfoy shared a look, then took off the way that they’d come. There wasn’t an ice cube’s chance in hell that Harry was staying in the forest any longer than he had to. Harry knew it was stupid to run in the cold but, at that moment, he didn’t care. Until he had no choice about caring.

His chest was burning with pain and he was barely taking in any oxygen. He was light headed and clumsy, but the tree line was in sight and he couldn’t stop. He could see Malfoy right in front of him and focused only on the blond hair to give more attention to breathing. Once they were on the other side of the tree line with dying grass under their feet, Harry couldn’t take it anymore.

Harry let his legs give out and fell onto the grass, rolling on his back only to realize that made breathing worse somehow. 

“Potter!” Malfoy yelled. “Let’s go!”

Harry looked up to see him standing farther up the hill.

Harry rolled into his stomach and pulled himself up, walking up the hill on all fours to keep from falling. His chest felt as if he’d inhaled flames, but he had to keep running, had to keep—

“Potter!” Malfoy shouted as Harry felt his legs almost give out under his weight, but then the weight was taken away from his legs as his arm was thrown around Malfoy’s shoulders. 

“Don’t make me save you, Potter! What’s wrong?” Malfoy walked up the stone steps with Harry trying his best to keep his feet under him.

“Bre-“ huff “breathe” huff “can’” huff.

Harry gave up, unable to express anything with how tight his chest was.

“You can’t breathe?” Malfoy asked, somehow deciphering what Harry was trying to say. “Come on, I know where to take you, but you have to walk. I can’t carry your weight!”

Harry nodded, not caring that the person helping him was the same person who had been nothing but cruel to him all year.

Harry didn’t keep track of the time or steps it took to get to the infirmary, but he panicked as he saw the crisply made beds lining either side of the corridor. It didn’t smell like bleach like most hospitals, but Harry knew what a hospital felt like and he didn’t like it at all. 

He tried to wriggle out of Malfoy’s grip to no avail as they made their way to an older woman. Malfoy called out and her head snapped up, instantly falling on Harry and rushing over.

“What happened?” She demanded, taking Harry and laying him on the closest bed.

“We were running from something in the dark forest and then Potter couldn’t breathe, so we ran here and—“

“You said he couldn’t breathe?” The woman asked.

Harry coughed several times, feeling as if he was going to puke. He hated these episodes, no matter how many times they happened. The taste of iron filled his mouth, a sickening taste that destroyed any will he had left to listen to the conversation. 

Things seemed to fly by, coming and going. He was awake enough at one point to feel someone undress him, then again as someone came to check up on him. Neither time was he able to respond to the things happening, but he also wasn’t even sure if all of that was really happening.

At some point, Harry became aware of what was around him, almost jumping in surprise when he saw Malfoy sitting beside the bed, half asleep and slumping in his chair. Harry took a breath in, surprised by the amount of air that filled his lungs. He couldn’t think of a time it had ever been so easy to breathe, to take in a breath and let it stay there. 

“You’re awake?” 

Harry’s eyes popped open to see Malfoy staring at him, a look Harry couldn’t identify across his face. 

“I’ll go get Madam Pomfrey.” 

Malfoy was up like a shot and gone, giving Harry a sense of whiplash. He had just woken up and the world was already cuffing ahead. The second he closed his eyes, the older woman form before was looking him over. 

“Ah, look at that. Finally got some color back to your face.” The woman nodded to her self, then reached out to touch Harry. Instinctively, Harry flinched, immediately wishing he hadn’t. Malfoy and the woman shared a look that Harry didn’t like—something akin to pity, bust with a dash of something else on the side.

“I apologize. I should have warned you,” the woman said. Then, slowly, she moved to touch Harry again as she said, “I simply want to check and see how you are breathing.”

Harry nodded, holding his breath and trying not to flinch—“How weak you are, Potter. Flinching as you get the punishment you deserve!”—or apologize as if he had done something wrong. If Uncle Vernon found out Harry had said anything, even inadvertently, Harry would be in for a punishment so harsh he didn’t want to even think about it.

The woman placed her hand on his chest for a second, then moved a few places, hummed, and the nodded as she walked off, idly mumbling to herself.

“I’m glad to see you’re awake.” Malfoy said.

Harry stares at him dumbfounded. “What?”

“Last night, when we were running, you looked unwell. I’m glad to see you’re doing better.” Malfoy said as if it was a simple matter and not Harry’s rival showing some kind of soul like he cared about what happened to Harry.

Malfoy seemed like he wanted to say more, but his mouth snapped shut at the sound of large, heavy doors creaking open.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ever just... completely forget you have an entire story written and never posted the rest of it. 🤦🏼♂️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❗️TRIGGER WARNING❗️  
> blatant transphobia  
> On-screen violence

“Where is she!” The man demanded, a cape elegantly flowing behind him as he sauntered into the room.

“Mr Malfoy, the child may not even be awake. A good rest is the only way to treat such an issue.” Dumbledore replied in a way that almost sounded pleading to Harry. “We must talk to the ministry, follow the rules they define as to these situations.”

“I care not for such nonsense, Headmaster.” The man sneered, glancing up and down the hall.

Harry only noticed then that there were other people in the room, but he paid them no mind as the man’s eyes landed on Harry. He walked—or more, jogged—to Harry, looking him over.

“Draco, what is the meaning of this?” The man asked.

Malfoy opened his mouth and straightened his back as if to answer, but was cut short as Dumbledore addressed the man again.

“Mr Malfoy, we need to go about this the right way.” Harry thought Dumbledore sounded slightly winded as he spoke. “These are all simply speculations—“

“Headmaster, I politely ask that you be quiet. If Draco says this is his sister, I believe him. I would like to know how and why she appears this way.”

“Potter is still a student and that puts—“

“It must be a glamour, Father.” Draco said. 

Harry watched the room talk about him as if he wasn’t there, but finally caught on to what was being said and yelled out, “Don’t talk as if I’m not here!”

All eyes fell on Harry and he suddenly regretted saying anything. Without any idea of what’s going on, he had nothing else to say to push the stares toward something else.

The man—Mr Malfoy, which now seemed obvious with the platinum blond hair—sat on the side of the bed in a way that seemed so familiar and yet so strange.

“We will try to explain the details as best we can, but, simply put, we believe you to be Regina Malfoy, my daughter and Draco’s twin sister.”

Harry slowly started to shake his head, the words going through his brain, but not making sense. 

“Mr Malfoy, you need to step away,” Dumbledore said. The headmaster seem to be highly distressed, scraping at anything that may pull the Malfoy’s away from Harry. To be honest, Harry wished it was working.

After many exchanged words over several hours where Harry was required to stay in the medical wing until they could get some sort of official from something called the Ministry of Magic, it seemed as if they’d come to a concessus. Malfoy stayed for a while, not really saying anything, but was requested to leave by his father not long after.

Harry felt as if he was waiting for an execution, a feeling that was made even worse as a man dressed in a gray tweed suit came into the room, taking his hat off and tucking it under his arm. He spoke to Dumbledore, Mr Malfoy, Madam Pomfrey, and another woman that had arrived not long after Mr Malfoy. 

The seconds ticked by like hours until the group finally seemed to come to some kind of conclusion and made their way towards Harry. If there wasn’t a twist in his stomach that made he want to puke, he would have gotten up to greet them. Or bolted for the door. Whichever helped him the most.

“Miss Potter,” the man in the Gray suit said, then went on to say his name—Finch? Flintch?—and explain that the Malfoy’s where claiming some kid of family thing that Harry couldn’t understand, and that Harry would be put through some tests and required to take a few potions to explore the validity of the claim. None of it sounded appealing to Harry, but he had learned long ago that he had no say in what people did to him or made him do.

“First, let’s see if the glamour is real. That would be the easiest to do.” The official said, nodding to himself as he pulled out his wand. “This may tingle a bit.”

Harry instinctively flinched, guarding his face with his arms. An odd light surrounded Harry, and the the sound of something frizzing out like water on a hot cast iron pan. Opening his eyes, Harry found arms that were not his own—paler and thinner. His hands were more bony with long fingers and a thinner palm. Harry shook his head, running his hands through his hair as he normally did with he was stressed. Only, his hair didn’t feel the same. It was finer and less of a mop than he usually kept.

When he looked up, he only saw five versions of the exact same face, a mix of bewildered and scared.

The woman with dark hair that had come not long after Mr Malfoy had tears spring into her eyes. He hands went to cover her mouth as she took a step forward. She reached out as if to touch his face but jumped when Harry jerked away.

“It’s her, Lucious. It’s really her.” She said, voice cracking.

Mr Malfoy turned to Dumbledore and the official. “Need we run any other tests or may we take our daughter home?”

Harry was almost numb to the world. If he wasn’t a Potter, how did he become one? Did the Malfoys give him up? And if they did, why did the suddenly want him back? He heard something about winter break, but had too many questions running through his head to pay attention.

Eventually, after much debate, Harry was allowed to return to his room. Without realizing the change, Harry simply walked into the common room and headed for his tower. He was stopped dead when someone yanked him back as soon as he got to the stares.

“How did you get in here!” Ron asked, holding the front of Harry’s robes with one had and the other fisted and ready to attack. “And where did you get these robes!”

“Ron, stop, that hurts!” Harry shouted, pushing back to get Ron to let go of his robes. The cloth was cutting into the back of Harry’s neck and rubbing painfully and Ron jostled him around. “It’s me, it’s Harry!”

Ron stopped, eyes narrowing. “Malfoy, if you think you can just walk your rich arse up here and start—“

“Ron! It’s Harry, stop! I’ll explain everything!” 

“Oh, yeah, okay. If you’re Harry then prove it!” Ron pulled Harry closer making the fabric dig even more.

Harry tried to think of something—anything—to convince Ron it was really him. Finally, he found something. “You put your socks in your sheets so they’re warm when you go to put them on in the morning cause you say the heater makes them too hot!”

Ron’s face turned to sock as he dropped Harry. “Is it really you?” 

Harry straightened his robes and nodded. “I told you it was!”

“Well, you can’t blame me for not believing you, looking like that. Did you take a polyjuice potion?”

Harry shook his head, eyeing the room before he waved for Ron to follow him up the stairs.

In their shared room, Harry told Ron everything about the past two days, starting with the dark forest and ending with walking into the common room. Ron didn’t stop him at any point, jaw slowly falling open as the story went on.

“That’s bloody mad.” Ron said, shaking his head out of whatever trance he’d been in whilst listening. “How did you get that glamour? Who put it on you? How did you end up with your parents!”

“I don’t know!” Harry yelled in frustration, falling on his back on the bed. “All I know is that I don’t want to end up at Malfoy Manner. I would never live up to what they want, not when Draco does everything so perfectly!”

Ron sat in silence and opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by a group of boys walking into the room.

“Potter,” the tallest one—a boy Harry had never had any interaction with—said. “What’re you doing here?”

Harry looked at Ron in confusion, silently asking if he knew what this boy was talking about. When Harry saw Ron knew about as much as him, he turned back to the group.

“This is my room, I believe we should ask you what you think you’re doing here?”

“What’re we doing here?” The tall boy laughed, a harsh, single exclamation of mockery. “This is the boy’s tower. We can be where we please. Unlike you.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed, catching on to where this was going. They must have already heard about the glamour or else they’d think he was Malfoy just as Ron had. Harry stood slowly, ready to chew every single one of them out until someone yelled, “Grab her!” He was suddenly being pulled down the stairs backward by two boys, one in each arm to keep him pinned. Harry fought a much a he could, but he didn’t have the strength of two boys twice his height. He could hear Ron shouting behind them, but knew it was for naught.

He was thrown into the floor of the common room painfully. A quick glance told him that no one was in the room—dinner must have been served—and Harry would receive no help.

“Pin her down!” A boy yelled, another complying and holding down her left arm, another person stepping on her right forearm and sneering down. Harry screamed in pain, pulling on his arms in hopes of freeing them but only causing himself more pain as the boy squeezed tighter.

“This one is for being a perve; being in the boy’s dorm must have given you the chance to see all kinds of things!” A swift kick hit Harry’s left hip sending burning pain down his leg. 

Harry clamped his mouth closed to keep himself from screaming out. These kids wouldn’t be anything compared to Vernon’s wrath when he found Harry wearing Dudley’s clothes. Showing it hurt would only egg them on, give them satisfaction, and Harry refused to give them what they wanted.

Ron was yelling at them to stop threatening them with every thing he could think of, but his words meant nothing without his wand to back them up. The boys shouted several more things, all of them resulting in a kick or a punch to his body. 

What felt like years later, the tall boy told the other to pick Harry up. When Harry was uptight, the kid smiled in a way that made Harry want to puke. Suddenly, there were hands on his robes, yanking them off and throwing them across the room. 

Ron must have broken through the other boys because he came out of nowhere and decked the boy right in the nose, screaming for him to fuck off. Harry had no idea Ron could throw a punch like that, but he quickly wished Ron hadn’t ever tried because the group was going after him now.

Harry didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t understand why any of this was happing. The world and whatever divine being was up there did not give a fuck about Harry anymore. It had been a long time since Harry felt this helpless, this lost. Like the world was slipping through his hands and he no longer had control.

After what feeling like years, Harry was thrown on the floor, kicked one last time, then left alone as the boy walked out of the common room and into the hall

Harry coughed several times, curling into a ball as tightly as he could. This wasn’t the worst beating he’d had, not by far, but his whole body was flaring in pain. Ron crouched down near Harry’s face, blood running from his nose as he asked if Harry was okay.

Harry had no response, no way to express how he was in that moment. The black fuzz that was slowly engulfing his vision didn’t help, either. He felt someone’s hand on his side, shaking him, but it was gone a moment later as he slipped into unconsciousness.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ❗️Trigger warning❗️  
> Misgendering of trans character, non-intentional

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wassap~ I’mma go ahead and updat with the chapters I’ve got and go from there. Pls enjoy~

When Harry woke, it was to a blindingly bright room on a bed that felt like a cloud. He was an odd mix of content and discomfort that ran around in his head as he tried to crack his eyes open to glance around the room. He was expecting to be in his cupboard, the room dark and cramped. Instead, he was in a large room filled with sunlight and soft colors. 

Harry tried to sit up, stoping when pain shredded through his torso. Harry would have screamed had it not been for years of “be quiet and pretend you don’t exist.” Still, he put firm pressure on his torso and sat up against the pain, sweating from the effort. He looked up when a door on the far side of the room opened and a woman with long black hair dressed in a black and glittery dress with studs down a cut down the side. She entered the room with a tray, setting it down on a cart and pushing it over to the bed. 

It took a moment for the woman to realize Harry was awake, smiling warmly in greeting. 

“It’s good to see you awake,” She said, picking up a tea cup and holding it out for Harry to take. 

Harry grabbed the cup out of politeness, but didn’t take a drink. “Who are you?”

It looked like Harry had torn out everything the woman loved for a moment, but it was gone just as quickly as it had arrived.

“I’m Narcissa Malfoy, your mother.” The woman had a pained smile as she settled onto the side of the bed.

Harry had to take a moment to recover from the whiplash of that statement. “You’re my what?”

“Your mother, dear. We were informed by your head of house that you were mugged by some other students and it may be best to pull you out for a bit.”

Harry had to think to a moment, okay to be hit with a wave of memories from the previous day. 

“They’re trying to find out who it was, but haven’t gotten any leads yet. The Weasley boy is still in recovery.”

“Is he okay?” Harry asked, slightly panicked. 

“Yes, he’ll be alright.” The woman chuckled, holding out her hand to take the tea cup back. “How’re you holding up?”

Harry thought for a moment, deciding whether or not he should filter his thoughts and respond with what she wanted to hear, or tell her the full truth of the pain going beyond physical. He opted for the former.

“I’m okay.” He replied. When he looked back up from his fiddling fingers, Mrs Malfoy had a knowing look on her face.

After a moment of silence, Mrs Malfoy said, “It’s time for your potions.”

Harry would have gaged if he had any idea what was coming. Every drop was as putrid as they smelled, but with Mrs Malfoy so close, Harry had no choice but to drink them. After the last vile, Mrs Malfoy gave him a chocolate bar and left the room.

For the next few days, that was how Harry lived. He never saw anyone other than Mrs Malfoy, but she was nice enough. He got a lot of reading done, and most of his school work was Owl’d over so he wouldn’t fall behind. When Mrs Malfoy declared Harry strong enough, he could finally walk around. His legs felt like jello and he couldn’t go too far without getting winded, but it was something.

By the end of the week, Mrs Malfoy had finally asked Harry to join her at the dinner table for their night-time meal. Harry didn’t know why this felt like such an accomplishment, but it did. Mrs Malfoy had laid out a formal dress for him to wear. She had said it wasn’t too tight so Harry wouldn’t have anything pushing or pulling against his wounds, and easy enough for him to get on by himself.

Harry had to hold back tears as he stared at the dress. This was going to be like the Dursley’s all over again—forced to wear clothes he didn’t want and addresses with pronouns he dreaded. Knowing better than to fight against it—Mrs Malfoy had been nice enough, but Harry had yet to do anything to make her mad—he stepped into the dress and tied the ribbons at his side. Refusing to look at himself in a mirror—maybe he could fool himself into thinking he wasn’t wearing it—he walked through the halls and to the dinning room.

At the head of the table sat Mr Malfoy, sporting another jacket and cape. Mrs Malfoy sat to his left, beautiful dressed. But the person sitting to Mr Malfoy’s right is what made Harry pause for a moment at the door. Professor Snape looked up at Harry, they directed his eyes back at his food as if Harry was nothing interesting. Harry didn’t know whether to be seething with anger or appreciative. One less person to see him dressed in such clothes was a step in the right direction.

The smile on Mr Malfoy’s face was slightly unsettling, but also warm and welcoming. Harry wasn’t sure how to address that so he decided not to. Harry took a seat next to Draco, deciding the lesser of two evils.

“Aurum, it’s nice to have you at dinner.” Mr Malfoy said. Harry mumbles out a thanks and watched as Mr Malfoy snapped his fingers and a thing that looked like Yoda but uglier popped out of nowhere.

Harry stared in awe as Mr Malfoy told the Yoda-thing to begin dinner. The thing bowed, then left just the same way it had come.

“Haven’t you ever seen a house elf?” Draco asked from Harry’s left. 

Harry, too awe-struck to reply, just shook his head. He had known he was a wizard for a little over two months and he was only just starting to realize the possibilities that come with magic.

“Oh, well, they’re kinda like maids or something in the Muggle world. They clean and cook and stuff.” Draco explained.

Harry looked at Draco in confusion. Since when had Malfoy ever explained something without mocking Harry?

Food was served and a few conversations started between the adults. Draco, left with only Harry to talk to, tried to start up a conversation.

“You haven’t really missed anything at school.” Draco said. “The Weasley twins are setting off a bunch of racket, but that’s nothing unusual.”

Harry actually laughed at that. More of a snort with a smile attached than anything, but it was still surprising to know that Draco was the one who had put it there.

“You know, it’s weird to see someone with your face walking around when you’re not used to it.” Draco commented.

“If you think that’s bad, try looking in a mirror and seeing you.” Harry wondered if that had gone a bit too far, but Draco only smirked in an approving way.

“You look really nice in the dress, by the way. Mother spent all week picking out clothes for you.” Draco started in on the meal that had just been served. When he swallowed, he said, “She’s been aching for another girl in the house.”

Harry gave a strained smile, looking back down at his food. How was he ever going to tell these people—his parents—that he wasn’t the long-lost-daughter they were hoping for. That he never could be. Harry looked at the dress with its black and red roses, wondering how long he would be forced to wear it. A moment later, he wondered how much time he would be spending in dresses from this point forward.

After dinner, Draco and Harry were dismissed to their rooms, something Draco must have taken as an invite into Harry’s room. Or, what Harry was assuming was his room. In his family’s house. That was still an idea Harry was adjusting to.

Harry went to sit on his bed, ignoring Draco as he flopped down on the other side. Taking a chance he didn’t think he would get again, Harry looked over his shoulder and asked, “Draco, what happened to your sister?”

Draco sighed as he sat up, his normally slicked-back hair handing lightly across his forehead. “I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that.”

“You don’t have to say!” Harry exclaimed, only to be cut off by Draco’s arm waving around.

“No, not like that. I just meant that it’s not a happy story...” Draco trailed off for a moment, looking out the window, then looking back at Harry. “A man broke through the wards—we still don’t know how—and got all the way to the house. Somehow, he managed to scale the side and broke into our nursery. Your bed had been closer to the window, which is why he must have taken you instead of me. He ran off our grounds then appearated somewhere.

“Mother and father searched for months, but they couldn’t find you and assumed the worse.” Draco shrugged here, as if it was no big deal that Harry’s biological parents declared him dead and moved on with their lives.

Harry was quiet for several minutes, letting his head roll over the past few weeks and the events that have turned everything upside down.

“Since you’ve been here, Mother hasn’t been in her room as much.” Draco started picking at the seam on his dress pants. “And Father has never smiled that much at dinner. It was nice to see.”

Harry didn’t know if he would define Mr Malfoy’s facial expression at smiling, but what did he know.

“Dinner was nice, too.” Harry said with a soft smile. “I’ve never done that before.”

Draco cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Done what?”

“Eat at the table. At least, not until I got to Hogwarts.” Harry didn’t know why he was sharing this information with Draco, but he didn’t have the knee-jerk reaction to resend what he said.

“Surely Muggles have dinning tables, don’t they?” Draco was exasperated.

“They do, it’s just... I wasn’t allowed to eat there.” Harry shrugged. “I never really got much to eat anyway, so it didn’t matter.”

Draco’s brows were knitted in anger but his mouth showed how crazy the concept was. “Why the bloody hell not!?!”

“Because I’m a freak. They didn’t want me around and making the food taste bad.” Harry sighed. “If you ask me, it was Dudley’s refusal to take a shower that made the food taste bad.”

“Dudley?” Draco asked.

“Oh, my cousin. Or... he used to be my cousin? I’m not really sure how to define it anymore, I guess.”

There was a long pause. When Harry looked over to Draco, he saw a contemplative look plastered to Draco’s face.

“Can I ask one last question?” Draco asked.

“That was a question,” Harry joked, “but yeah, you can.”

Draco gave a brief smile before his face went somber again. “Why do you dress like a boy at school “

Harry physically flinched at that one. “Because I am a boy. I can’t really explain it, but I know I’ve never really been a girl. I didn’t want anyone at school to find out, but then the remembrall thing happened.”

Draco looked like someone had kicked his puppy. “I didn’t know that was going to happen and I’m really sorry.”

Harry shrugged as he stood up. “I’m going to change and then go to bed.”

Draco nodded and got off the bed. When he got to the door, he stopped and turned his head. “I always wanted a little brother.”

Harry’s heart filled with warmth as Draco walked out and closed the door behind him. 

Harry yanked himself out of the dress and into some clothes that had been brought from school. The shirt and shorts weren’t really sleeping clothes, but he didn’t think he could bare wearing a matching set of polka-dotted pajamas after the dress. He needed to feel like himself for a while, and sitting in an oversized shirt and shorts, he almost did.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ❗️Trigger warning❗️  
> Discussions of abuse, no on-screen violence.  
> Harry has a panic attack  
> Discussion of Gender/trans shit

The next week was a confusing mess of meetings and questioning and dressing up for dinner and it all just felt so wrong that Harry was almost happy he’d gotten in trouble and sent to his room for picking a fight with Draco. He was experiencing a love-hate relationship with his biological parents, craving their attention and trying his best to make them happy, but loathing the mention of their “daughter” to friends. Harry didn’t know how to tell them that the little girl taken out of a crib ten years ago wasn’t who he was. He kept his feeling buried and tried his best to push through. It wasn’t going to be easy.

He sat in bed Thursday, laying on his side with the blankets tucked up to his chin as he softly cried. He hated his body, he hated his life, and he hated that he couldn’t tell his biological parents. For a brief moment, Harry wondered what the Potters would have been like if they were still alive. Would they accept him or would he have to hide just as much? Harry decided to pretend they would—that they’d repaint his room and call him by his name, maybe even get him new clothes. They’d never make him wear a dress ever again. For a moment, Harry soaked in the possibility before his chest started aching as he realized it would never happen. 

His door creaking open brought Harry’s attention back to the physical world as he turned to see who it was. 

Draco stood at the door as he harshly whispered, “Are you still up?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied in the same tone, sitting up a bit on his bed. “Why are you walking about?”

Draco shrugged as he walked in, shuttling the door behind him. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Harry narrowed his eyes. For as rude as Draco used to be, he was a very bad liar. He decided to let it drop as Draco climbed onto the bed and crawled his way to sit next to Harry. When he was situated, he grabbed for one of the throw pillows and started picking at the seam. 

Harry wasn’t sure what to do. He felt too cruddy to try and decipher what Draco was trying so hard not to show. Harry had gotten really good at reading people and knew other’s feelings almost before they did, but today just wasn’t letting him do that. He felt too numb to the world.

“You don’t seem to be having a good week,” Draco finally said, taking a chance look up at Harry. “Just thought you might wanna talk about it.”

Harry’s eyes grew hot as he tried not to let himself cry again. He’d been crying every night and his sinuses were not happy. He took in a deep breath, trying to control his voice as he said, “I’m okay.”

Draco didn’t seem pleased with this answer but didn’t say anything. Harry took the small blessings where he could. Draco leaned back against the pillows, eyes in a seemingly far-off place. 

“It’s because Mother and Father have been making you dress like a girl, isn’t it?” Draco asked quickly, as if pushing the words out before he lost the courage to say them.

Too socked to lie, Harry simply nodded his head.

“I knew it,” Draco said, almost too quiet for Harry to hear. After a moment, Draco turned back and declared, “We need to tell Mother and Father.”

Harry’s heart fell six stories through the floor as his blood ran cold. “We can’t! They’ll get mad!”

Draco’s face twisted in confusion. “Mad?”

“Yes, mad!” Harry repeated. “They’ll be angry over my waste of perfectly good clothes, and then mad again if I wear clothes that aren’t mine! And then they’ll force me to wear dresses and frilly things because they want to ‘reset my head!’ They’ll call me a freak and lock me in my room and I’ll never be allowed at the table again! They’ll take away my food and they won’t let me eat unless I do as they tell me!” 

Harry hadn’t expected to fall apart in such a way, but tears were pouring from his eyes as he gasped for breath. His chest was starting to hurt but he pushed the pain aside as best he could.

Draco stared at him with wide eyes, a mortified look across his face. His voice was almost inauditable when he asked, “Is that what that muggle family did to you?”

All of Harry’s fight left him as he collapsed on the bed and sobbed. Sobbed for the family that had never been his, for the family he didn’t get to grow up with, for his chance at truly being himself ruined, his body being the wrong way, his name—names???—the war going on within his head that he didn’t seem able to win. He brushed against his running nose with the sleeve of his shirt, gasping for air between cries.

A hand on his back brought Harry’s focus to a teary-eye Draco, looking just as confused and distraught as Harry felt. With a quiet sniffle, Draco took Harry’s hand and gently pulled as he got off the bed. Harry, too hurt to care anymore, followed as Draco walked out of the room and down the hall. Harry hadn’t been in the Malfoy manner very long, but he had a basic understanding of the layout. 

Had he been paying attention, he would have noticed where Draco was pulling him and would be pushing Draco away. Instead, Harry’s eyes had been focused on the floor as he wiped at them half-heartedly. He looked up at the sound of a door creaking open, unsure as to why until he heard a very familiar voice.

“Draco, Aurum. What are you doing out of bed?” Mr Malfoy said with a firmness to his voice that had Harry jerking away. 

Draco held tight as he said, “Father, I’m sorry for breaking a rule but I think it’s important you know something.”

Harry shook his head, pulling away from Draco with as much power as he could. But Harry’s best wasn’t even a dent in Draco’s determination. Harry’s breathing became more distressed as he thought of all the ways Mr Malfoy could beat him for disobeying the rules. Wizards could easily think of something far worse than a spanking or locking him in his room.

Harry was too caught up in getting away from Draco that he didn’t notice Mrs Malfoy until she was picking him up. Harry flailed, screaming that he was sorry—he didn’t mean to break any rules! He wouldn’t be out of his room if Draco hadn’t pulled him out!

“‘m sorry! ‘m sorry! Please, no! ‘m sorry!” Harry wailed as his chest pain grew and breathing became harder than ever. Still, he pushed on, trying everything he could think of to get away. Harry cracked hi eyes open to see uncle Vernon reaching for his belt. Harry screamed again, right up until he ran out of breath. Arms were holding him down as he fought, but his flailing didn’t matter. He was too small, too weak, too stupid to get away. His chest hurt more than ever but he had to do something to stop them. Nothing was working, no amount of screaming or yelling had ever gotten him out of a punishment from uncle Vernon. If anything, it always made them longer and harder. Harry stopped screaming, his chest in too much pain and the fear of a worse punishment cutting off any noise he could make

He flailed pathetically for several minutes more until something was put over his face. Harry panicked, trying to shake his head side to side and shake the mask away, but he was too weak to put up much of a fight. 

“Baby, breathe. You’re okay, you’re safe.” A voice broke through his thoughts. 

Harry stopped flailing for a moment, trying to find the voice again. He knew that voice. Not the name, be he knew it wasn’t uncle Vernon. How could it be someone else? Harry wasn’t allowed around anyone outside the house, that was the one rule Harry never broke.

“We’re gonna be okay, baby. We’re at home in Mother and Father’s bed all nice and warm.”

Harry liked the voice, a sweet and soothing sound. He gasped for air, his body cold and trembling. The air had a sweet smell to it and Tony could feel as it went all the way into his chest. It was cold at first, making him shiver.

“That’s a good girl. Just like that, keep breathing.” A hand ran through Harry’s hair and he curled into the feeling. The pain in his chest was starting to go away as his panic fled from his body.

It took several minutes for him to realize he was laying on Mrs Malfoy’s chest, an odd mask being held to his face. He was still trembling but the tears had stopped as Harry looked around the room. 

Right, he was with the Malfoy’s, not the Dursley’s. There was no uncle Vernon with his leather belt or Petunia with her thin-lipped glare. Just Mrs Malfoy looking at him with concern as she gently rocked Harry side to side. It was an unfamiliar but comforting sensation.

“There you are,” Mrs Malfoy said, giving Harry a soft smile. “That was a bit frightening, huh?”

Harry nodded his head. It was scary and he was exhausted, both mentally and physically. He wondered how long they’d let him stay after something like that. He doubted they’d want someone like him mixed up with the Malfoy name.

Mrs Malfoy adjusted Harry in her lap, pulling him up and pressing his back against her chest with a firm hug. Harry wasn’t expecting the amount of affection he was receiving, but he was almost ready to bathe in it.

“Aurum?”

Harry looked up and found Draco in the same position in Mr Malfoy’s lap, his arms crossed over Mr Malfoy’s.

Harry tried for a smile but he knew it was fruitless. Harry had a feeling that he wasn’t the only one in the room distressed.

They sat in silence for a while until Harry pulled the mask away and said, “‘m sorry.”

Mrs Malfoy ran a hand through Harry’s messy hair and said, “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Harry craned his neck, looking Mrs Malfoy like she’d grown a second head. He had freaked out, dreaming and kicking the whole time and yet he had nothing to be sorry for? This must have been some kind of trap. Only... Mrs Malfoy didn’t seem the type. A Slytherin’s cunning personality trait doesn’t make a person cruel.

Mrs Malfoy squeezed him in a tight hug, something that seemed like she was comforting herself more than Harry. He wondered why for a moment until Draco spoke up.

“That’s... kind of(?) the reason I pulled Harry out of his room.” Draco seemed to be caught between respectful eye contact and a shameful guilt that drew his eyes away. “The muggles... I didn’t think it was best as a secret...”

“The muggles? The ones who had her?” Mr Malfoy asked Draco who gave a simple nod in conformation. Mr Malfoy turned to Harry and, with a gentle voice, asked, “Did they do something to you? Cause you any harm or difficulty?”

Harry wanted to shake his head no. He wanted to pretend that his ten years with the Dursley’s was all some messed up dream. He wanted to be strong, show that he could take care of himself. But the look in Mr Malfoy’s eyes, the genuine concern, the gentle voice, it all pushed past his defenses and all that was left was the truth. 

He nodded.

A flash of anger swept across Mr Malfoy’s face but was gone in a blink and Harry wondered if it had even been there in the first place.

“We will have them taken care of so they will never be able to hurt you or anyone else. I do not know what you have been through for all these years, but please know this: You will always be safe here.” Mr Malfoy rubbed his thumb across Harry’s cheek in soft strokes, Harry unconsciously leaning into the contact. 

Safe? The only place had ever really felt safe was at Hogwarts, and even then is wasn’t all the time. He got picked on a lot for being so small by other boys, but he was able to block most of them out. But to be completely safe? He didn’t even know how to interact and exist within that situation. As he thought about it, Harry realized how truly terrible that would be for him to say so he said nothing as tears rolled down his face. 

“Draco said you had something else you wanted to tell us?” Mrs Malfoy said after a moment of quietness. 

Harry’s heart beat picked up again, beating loudly in his chest. Now? Harry was going to have to say this now??? After the already emotionally tolling night, he still had to go on???

Harry just wanted to lie down and fall asleep for the rest of ever. Maybe he should just run away to his room and do just that. Only, he didn’t really want to. He wanted to stay in Mrs Malfoy’s lap and sit with his family on the Massive bed with soft sheets and fluffy blankets. He didn’t want to pretend or lie to his family. 

“It’s okay, you can tell us. We won’t be mad.” Mrs Malfoy said with a gentle squeeze of Harry’s shoulder. 

Harry nodded and took in a deep breath. How was he supposed to do this? He had never really told anyone about who he was but Draco, and Draco had known Harry as a boy first. Mr and Mrs Malfoy didn’t. But he tried to explain his heart the best way he could.

He told them the story of the first time he’d gotten Dudley’s hand-me-downs, how his aunt had been ragging when he wore them. They started getting clothes from a family down the street from a girl two years older than Harry. The clothes were too tight or pinched and he didn’t like wearing them, but he had no choice. The time he’d gotten a boy’s shirt mixed in one year—the girl’s brother’s, he supposed—and held on to it so tightly his knuckles went white. The time he tried to tell the Dursley’s that he didn’t like girl’s clothes and the beating that had followed due to his “ungratefulness.” How he got to Hogwarts and managed to get to the boy’s dorm without anyone really paying attention. How it had all be perfect until the rememball and the detention that followed. And then the name—his birth name—and how he hated the femininity of it.

He wasn’t sure how long the story took, but no one stopped or interrupted him. Harry kept his eyes carefully trained on his twiddling fingers, not daring to look up. He didn’t know how they would react and so long as he couldn’t see their faces, he could pretend they weren’t there. 

“Draco, do you remember what your name means?” Mr Malfoy asked. 

Harry peaked up for a second, watching Draco’s face turn to confusion as he answered.

“Dragon.” He replied. 

“Precisely. Do you know what Aurum means?”

“Gold or to be made of gold.” Draco said after a second of thought. 

“It does indeed.” Mr Malfoy smiled rustling Draco’s hair. “Before you two came into the world to breathe on your own, your mother and I had those names picked out. We wanted you two to know how strong and valuable you are—not just to us, but to yourselves.”

Harry couldn’t pull his eyes away from Mr Malfoy and his small, prideful smile as he spoke. 

“What your Father is trying to say,” Mrs Malfoy said with a bemused chuckle, “is that we will always love you. Boy or girl or anything in between. You’re a Malfoy and Malfoy’s stick together. Nothing will change how much we love you.”

Harry felt a new wave of tears roll down his face as Mrs Malfoy wrapped him into hug. Acceptance had always seemed more like make-believe than reality, but these people—his family—took him as he was. The very thing he’d been dreaming of his whole life was right here. 

“I am rather pleased with this development. Having two sons to carry on the Malfoy name—ha! My father will   
roll over in his grave to know of this.” Mr Malfoy gave an amused chuckle. At Harry’s confusion, he went on. “Malfoy’s are allowed only one child a generation. When Narcissa had twins, there was a bit of an uproar within the... family...”

Mr Malfoy’s eye brows rose as his face paled. He looked over Harry’s head at Mrs Malfoy. Draco’s eyes met Harry’s in confusion, neither daring to speak.

“Children—boys,” Mr Malfoy said, giving Harry a strained smile in support that, even in the increasingly distressing environment, still made Harry smile, “I believe everyone has had a very long night and we all must sleep well tonight.”

Draco groaned as Mr Malfoy move him to the side to stand up. 

“Draco, come now,” Mrs Malfoy said, holding out her arm. Draco took it and went to cuddle his mother.

“I will see you in the morning. Sleep tight.” Mr Malfoy rustled Harry and Draco’s hair before walking out of the room with his usual grace.

Harry could see the question at the top of Draco’s tongue, but he was stopped as Mrs Malfoy shifted to lay down.

“Let’s all sleep here tonight. No point in walking you back when you’re both so tired.” Mrs Malfoy said as she pulled back the covers. 

She didn’t let go of Harry the entire time they were getting settled and cuddle him close when they laid down. Draco was in front of Harry in a way that made a Harry sandwich, something he giggled about to himself. It felt weird at first, to be in a bed with another person. But the more he started to drift, the more he fell in love with the breathing patterns of Draco and Mrs Malfoy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aight, that’s the last of what I’ve got atm. I think there will be two more chapters and then it’ll be complete!

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated but never expected.


End file.
